Unsettling for Better
This move of mine to Mallorca has, so far, been a supremely unsettling affair, which is probably obvious, isn’t it? In the simplest of terms, moving from one place to another is, by its very nature unsettling. Upending the status quo to seek a new form of normal inevitably ushers in a period of chaos. But before long the chaos turns to adaptation, then exploration, then integration, then commitment. And it’s in commitment, I believe, that we’re rewarded for our efforts with the rare gems of life—a sense of belonging, purpose, connection, intimacy, relationships and delightful surprises.
And although I’m only just about stumbling across the fuzzy, scuzzy borderlands between chaos and adaptation in my present adventure of resettling—it is early days after all—I realise how this principle of change applies universally.
From the smallest change to the seemingly biggest, the consequences of that change are unavoidable. Even moving from the comfort of the couch to get a drink from the kitchen, is, by necessity, unsettling.
And for many of us, the prospect of the accompanying discomfort is too much to bear. We forgo long-term satisfaction for fear of short-term chaos even if the satisfaction on offer is far greater than our current experience.
So we consciously or otherwise decide to stay put. We sit on the couch and kid ourselves we’re not thirsty. But the nagging voice of thirst won’t play along for long. Sooner or later we’ll need to respond and haul ourselves up to the tap.
And that’s just the little voice of casual thirst. Imagine how loud the voice of the soul might shout if our decisions, conscious or otherwise, are keeping us settled into something, somewhere or someone that isn’t right for us.
We can pretend we don’t hear it, but we all know when we’re only pretending.
To answer to the call is what makes us. It is, I think, the very essence of living a full life.
So we can either respond like a hero and unsettle ourselves for the better, or we can sit down in denial and settle for second best.
With love in the time of resettling,